


Heir Apparent

by stargatefan_archivist



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen, Humor, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-31
Updated: 2013-12-31
Packaged: 2018-10-06 20:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10343964
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stargatefan_archivist/pseuds/stargatefan_archivist
Summary: SPOILERS : "The Fifth Man" and "Ascension"CONTENT WARNINGS: adult languageJack’s kids are all growed up





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Yuma, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [Stargatefan.com](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Stargatefan.com). To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [StargateFan Archive Collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/StargateFan_Archive_Collection).

Heir Apparent

##  Heir Apparent

##### Written by Widget   
Comments? Write to us at [kjones285@msn.com](mailto:kjones285@msn.com)

  * SPOILERS : "The Fifth Man" and "Ascension" 
  * CONTENT WARNINGS: adult language 
  * Jack's kids are all growed up 
  * PG13 [Hu] 



* * *

General George Hammond was seated at his desk once again reviewing the personnel folder that one of his contacts at the Pentagon had forwarded to him. He pushed back from his desk with a weary sigh. Unfortunately, the official file of Colonel Frank Simmons was proving no more enlightening than any of the other sources he had tapped thus far in his attempt to ferret out the new Pentagon liaison's true agenda. He rubbed a hand across his face. Hammond might have won this round, but he knew, with iron clad certainty, that this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

A sudden rapping on his door snapped Hammond out of his reverie. "Come," he instructed.

Colonel Jack O'Neill, his 2IC, stood in the now open doorway. "You wanted to see me, sir?" the younger man queried.

"Yes I did. Come in, colonel."

Jack closed the door behind him before moving to stand in front of his commanding officer's desk.

"At ease," Hammond said, gesturing with his hand towards the chair facing him. Jack complied with the request and dropped gracefully into the seat indicated.

"I've looked over your report regarding your experiences on P7S-441 and your encounter with the alien life form. Dr. Fraiser has confirmed that your MRI is normal and that whatever chemical the alien secreted to, uh, 'mimic' human form seems to have dissipated from your system much as it has from that of the other members of SG-1."

"Yes, sir. That's what she told me as well." Jack's tone was bland but there was a slight note of inquiry that might have been missed by someone less familiar with the colonel and his personal quirks.

"However, neither your mission report nor Dr. Fraiser's medical report are the reason I wanted to talk with you."

"Oh?" Jack drawled, the slight lift of his eyebrow underscoring his curiosity. Or was it his amusement? At times, even he couldn't tell.

"I called you in here because I wanted to discuss your team's recent behavior." Hammond explained.

The eyebrow inched higher. "Sir, with all due respect, none of us was really responsible for thinking we had acquired a fifth. The chemical..."

"I'm well aware of the chemical and it's effects, colonel," Hammond explained. "What I'm referring to is the, well, rather unusual behavior exhibited by your teammates in recent weeks."

***

Jack looked at his commanding officer in puzzlement. 

"Unusual behavior, sir?" 

OK, we're talking SG-1. Define unusual. Hell, define normal for that matter, 'cos I don't think any of us has seen the back end of normal since the first time we caught the wormhole express.

"I'm referring to the recent signs of insubordination that your teammates have been showing."

My teammates? Insubordinate? We're talking Carter, Daniel and Teal'c here. And while I know they can spell it, and I'd bet Daniel can say it in a coupla dozen languages, that's about as close as any of them'll ever get.

Hammond was talking again. "When they returned from P7S-441 without you, they were most adamant about returning immediately, despite evidence that they had been compromised. All three of your teammates refused a direct order to stand down and relinquish their weapons and continued to do so until I ordered the SFs to take them by force if necessary."

By force?

"Sir," Jack interjected, "I'm sure it was just the strain. Obviously, they were just worried about me and wanted to get back and help ASAP."

"I'm well aware of that, colonel," the general acknowledged. "However, this is far from an isolated incident. Major Carter, for example, hacked into the SGC mainframe using a false access code when hers was denied."

Hacking? False access codes? That's my girl!

"Furthermore," the general continued "she counseled Dr. Fraiser against reporting that she had also been affected by the chemical compound so that she could carry out tests, the validity of which, I might add, are highly suspect given that she was already under the influence of what appears to be some form of hallucinogen."

Doc Fraiser? Whoa, who'd've thought the Napoleonic power monger could be so devious. No, wait that's not right. Janet's *always* devious, just not insubordinate.

"Nor are those isolated incidents. All three members of your team were decidedly rude in their dealings with Colonel Simmons, who is..." Hammond paused giving Jack a meaningful glance before he could protest, "...technically a superior officer. Major Carter was brusque and confrontational, Teal'c apparently threatened to kill him, though not in so many words..."

Way to go big guy!

"...and Dr. Jackson was extremely impolite to the point of being insulting on both occasions where they spoke."

Daniel? Rude? Do tell!

"Impolite, sir?"

"I wasn't privy to the second conversation, but on the first occasion when Colonel Simmons offered to remind Dr. Jackson of the threats posed by the Goa'uld, Dr. Jackson asked him if he could do so, but to go slow," Hammond clarified.

It took all the control that Jack had learned in his years with Special Ops not to snort in amusement at that one. Good one Dannyboy!

Jack was pulled back from his thoughts by the stern voice of his CO. "Colonel O'Neill, I don't need to remind you that SG-1 is the flagship team of this command and as such you are held to a higher standard of behavior..."

"Yes, sir. I understand completely," Jack offered hastily. "And I promise I'll talk to them about their behavior. I'll make sure they understand precisely where I stand on the subject," Jack swore, all earnest intensity. 

"Colonel," Hammond began his tone even, but tinged with exasperation and perhaps even a hint of amusement, "I am well aware of where *you* stand on the subject. *That*, I'm afraid is part of the problem."

Jack gave the general his best 'wounded puppy' expression.

Hammond sighed. "Jack, just tell them to tone it down. We already have one miscreant on SG-1. I really don't need three more. Do I make myself clear?"

Jack replaced the 'wounded puppy' with his 'duly chastened' expression. "Yes, sir" he replied.

Hammond nodded his acknowledgement, accepting that the issue was resolved, at least for now.

"Now that that matter is settled, I was wondering if you could perhaps explain why Accounting just received an invoice for $387.26 from "Cowboy Bob's Big and Tall Men's Shop" in Denver?

****

Jack moved down the corridors of the SGC, unable to completely contain his good humor despite the situation. Oh sure, Hammond had *technically* just given him a dressing down over the behavior of his teammates, and by extension his own less than stellar performance as their commanding officer and de facto role model. But the thing was, he couldn't really be upset, not with Hammond who was simply doing his job, nor with his kids, who, after all were just following in the old man's footsteps. They'd done him proud. Who would have thought one straight laced, pragmatic theoretical astrophysicist, one even-tempered, fair-minded archeologist, and one ever stoic Jaffa could turn out to be such a fine group of wisecracking smart asses? It hadn't been easy and the transformation didn't occur overnight, but the results were everything Jack could have hoped for. Sharper than a serpent's tongue? Ha! The snakes got nuthin' on my kids!

And as for the general, well, Jack knew he had a soft spot for SG-1 and he was pretty certain the old man secretly got a kick out of some of their more, um, colorful escapades. If he didn't, Hammond could have bounced all their butts out of the program at least a dozen times over the past five years for various infractions, indiscretions and full blown insubordinate acts. 

If Jack were being completely honest with himself-something he tried to avoid whenever possible-he'd have to admit that *maybe* at times he pushed the envelope just a little too far and tested Hammond's tolerance to its absolute limits and beyond. And yes, sending Hammond the bill for Teal'c's newest sartorial venture was *perhaps* not the wisest thing he could have done. But hey, Jack's current job description included planet hopping, fighting Snakeheads and Daniel-sitting, so 'risk taker' was definitely a box he could check off on all those stupid personality tests they made him take every coupla years. 

It hadn't exactly been a hard sell to get Hammond to sign off on the invoice. All he'd had to do was explain how he and Teal'c had been watching some old western about the Alamo and when Jack explained that the Alamo was in Texas, Teal'c had immediately become intrigued by the garb of these 'brave warriors', the forefathers of the mighty 'Hammond of Texas.' Teal'c had been quite keen on adopting this style of dress as an homage to the warrior he so respected, and well, hell, who could say no the that? Hammond certainly couldn't, so he'd signed off with a warm smile and a glint of moisture in his eye.

It was a poignant story, really. Touching. It was also a total crock. Truth was, Teal'c had just caught "Urban Cowboy" on TBS and had remarked quite favorably on John Travolta's apparent skill in wooing women, busting broncos and busting heads. Looks like Travolta c. 1980 had taken the place of Apophis as "God most likely to be worshipped" in Teal'c's yearbook. Somehow, Jack couldn't see himself explaining that little scenario to Hammond, hence the current subterfuge. Jack didn't feel the tiniest bit guilty about it. Nope. Not at all. It was for the good of all concerned, actually. And let's face it, what Hammond didn't know didn't hurt Jack, which was kinda a priority right now when he was already zipping along on that thin ice. And at least Jack had finally succeeded in dissuading Teal'c from trying to requisition a mechanical bull for his quarters. Maybe it was time to consider cutting the Jaffa off from cable, at least for a while. Jerry Springer was one thing, but last week Jack had caught him watching Martha Stewart. He shivered involuntarily with the memory. Let's face it; she's *way* scarier than Hathor ever was.

Turning the corner, he finally reached the door to Daniel's lab. Peeking in he saw the archeologist seated at his desk staring intently at some ancient doohicky as he scribbled frantically on a yellow lined legal pad, completely oblivious to the arrival of the other man.

"Yo, Danny!" Jack announced, making his presence known.

Daniel looked up and genuine smile in his lips. "Hey, Jack. How'd the debrief with the General go?"

Jack moved further into the office, his hands stuck in his pockets in a deceptively casual stance. "Oh, fine. I told him about our newest alien pal and he filled me in on the recent activities I missed here on base during my absence."

"Ah."

Ah, indeed.

"So, uh, Daniel...?"

"Yeah Jack?"

"Go slow?"

Daniel looked at Jack in confusion, clearly not grasping the sudden conversational shift. Jack waggled his eyebrows meaningfully and watched as understanding suddenly dawned. A warmth slowly spread across the younger man's cheeks and he lifted his chin defiantly, almost as if daring the blush to go any further.

"It sounds like you guys have been keepin' busy while I was gone. Makin' friends, workin' on new skills." Jack drawled.

"Only you could consider insubordination a skill. But then again, you've had so many, *many* years to practice. I wonder? Does the Air Force give a lifetime achievement award for cracking wise?" Daniel observed coolly.

"Been practicing those waspish asides, I see. The age reference was an especially nice touch, Danny Boy."

"I think 'touched' is a more accurate assessment here. Incidentally Jack, I should probably point out that gray hair and gray matter are *not* interchangeable."

"Insulting my intelligence. Good boy!"

"I swear to God, Jack, you call me 'boy' one more time and I'm taking your P-90 and shoving it up your ass. Sideways." Daniel rejoined tartly. 

"Oooh. Threats of physical harm. C'mon Danny, you can do it, I know you can. C'mon. C'mon. Don't leave me hangin' here."

"Fuck you, Jack."

"Yes! And we have full out profanity of a sexual nature! He shoots! He scores! He hits all four major put-down groups in..." Jack flipped his wrist and peered down at his watch face, "...forty-three seconds. A new personal best." 

Jack then knuckled his eye making overly dramatic sniffing sounds. "You've made your old man so proud, Danny. It brings a tear to my eyes to see my kids all growed up. You're a real chip off the old block."

"Chip off the old blockhead, more like," Daniel retorted, his lips twitching with the hint of a smile.

"Ooh, nice one Danny! You really have been practicing. Can you say it in Swahili, too?"

"Bite me, Jack!"

"Ah see, now technically, I should deduct points for using one of my lines since it wreaks the overall creativity of the performance, but seeing the progress you've made, I think I'll let it slide this time," Jack commented affably.

"Ass!" Daniel grumbled in response.

"Ah, c'mon Daniel. I'm just happy to see you living up to your name is all."

Daniel looked at his friend warily. "Do I really want to know what you're rambling on about this time?"

"Well, I'm hardly to blame if your name is Jackson. Jack-son. Jack's SON." 

Jack uttered the last pronunciation slowly, moving his hands to underscore the point. He continued.

"I tell ya Danny, I was worried there for awhile. I was thinking you were gonna have to change your name to something a little more a propos, like oh, I don't know, Humperdinck, or maybe Maybourne. That's a good name for somebody who's humor challenged. Let's face it, Harry wouldn't recognize a put-down if you stuck it on his head and called it a hat."

Daniel simply stared at Jack dumbfounded and utterly at a loss to respond to the bizarre line of reasoning that Jack had just laid out for him. In the face of such overwhelming irrationality, there was only one course of action: capitulation.

Daniel shook his head in resignation, chuckling at Jack's outrageousness. "You really do need professional help, you do know that, don't you, Jack?"

"Nah, what fun would that be?" Jack replied amiably. He grinned his brightest and cockiest smile back at Daniel. 

"You've been making real progress, Danny. Hammond said ya took old Pasty Face Simmons out at the knees. I couldn't have done better myself." 

"Well, I did learn from the master," Daniel replied with a slight nod of respect towards the older man. 

Jack reached over and clapped Daniel warmly on the shoulder. "Come grasshopper, lets go round up the other two miscreants in training and grab some grub. Then after we can spend some quality family time together."

Daniel stood, moving towards the door of his lab. "I may regret asking this, but what do you have planned, oh Wisecracking and Irreverent One?"

Ushering the younger man through the doorway, Jack said, "Well, I figure since Carter's in a tinkering mood, I'll get her to work on my cable box. She's gotta be able to fix it so I can get Showtime 2 *and* the Fishing channel for free."

They began moving down the corridor towards Sam's lab. "And I was thinking tomorrow maybe we could go to the Monster Truck Rally over in Cripple Creek. Now *there's* good, clean, wholesome fun for the entire family," he said, draping a companionable arm around the younger man's shoulders. "Unless you prefer the "Littlekin's Petting Zoo and Dairy?"

The two men continued on their way, Jack's voice fading as they moved away, "Oh, and then afterwards we can go to the mall. I hear they got a new shop called 'Don Ho's Hut.' I think it's time we introduced Teal'c to that most important of fashion accessories, the Hawaiian shirt. Oh and flip flops, definitely flip flops."

A groan was the only response that could be heard.

**The End**

  


* * *

  


> My three step program for fic writers in denial has now expanded to include step 4: the episode tag. This time I get to blame Jonah in the Whale who took a perfectly harmless observation I made and lobbed it back at me in the form of a plot bunny. Ow! That hurt! 
> 
> Big thanks to Juliette for beta-ing this puppy, and to Spring for lots of encouragement and giggles. And yes, to all of you who have been badgeri..., um, politely requesting, I promise, I *will* get back to the "Laundry Cycle." This plot bunny just dug in its paws and refused to go away, and frankly, Hughie the alpha plot bunny is *very* put out by it all. Any boo-boos, grammatical errors or early signs of split personality disorder belong to us, I mean, um, me alone.

* * *

  


>   
> © July 27, 2001 The characters mentioned in this story are the property of Showtime and Gekko Film Corp.  
> The Stargate, SG-I, the Goa'uld and all other characters  
> who have appeared in the series STARGATE SG-1 together with the names,   
> titles and backstory are the sole copyright property of MGM-UA Worldwide Television,   
> Gekko Film Corp, Glassner/Wright Double Secret Productions and Stargate SG-I Prod. Ltd.   
> Partnership.  
> This fanfic is not intended as an infringement upon those rights and   
> solely meant for entertainment.   
> All other characters, the story idea and the story itself   
> are the sole property of the author.   
> 

* * *

  



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